


End of a dream

by TheCrimsonValley



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonValley/pseuds/TheCrimsonValley
Summary: The hunt has been long but the dream is coming to an end.





	End of a dream

“..Gehrman..”

A whisper on the breeze perhaps? A rustling of the leaves? Just a trick of the mind, another one trying to draw him out of his sleep, only to leave him with less hope than ever before. The old hunter kept his head lowered, eyes closed firmly, hands resting in his lap as so many nights before this. Tossing and turning would soon come, dreams within dreams without any relief once he would awake once more.

“Gehrman.”

The gentle calling once more. Was it a trick of the mind or had something brushed against his coat? Most likely nothing, a strong gust of wind being the most likely culprit. A frown flew over his lips. Why was his mind hell bent on torturing him tonight? Could he no longer receive any solace even in those few seconds of dreamless sleep.

Soon enough he would be tormented by dreams, drawing pleas from his lips until he would shake awake. Once this happened he would weep bitterly before being forced back into his old routines, stepping in the same tracks over and over again, running in an endless circle. A never ending nightmare, his burden and his burden alone. The mere thoughts drew a sniffle from him. His entire being was fighting the urge to cry already.

“Gehrman, open your eyes!”

A violent shaking, making his body snap back and forth in the wheelchair. He could no longer blame it on his ailing mind or nature and instinctively his eyes snapped open. For a moment everything appeared blurred, the tears that had formed in his eyes saw to that but through the haze he could soon make out a figure.

Tall in stature, the long brown hair escaping as always, stripes of silver running from the temples and mixing in with the shades of hazel, the garb, by all the gods, the garb. His breath shallow in his throat, it took the old hunter a long moment before he could stop staring at it and raise his gaze to actually meet the face of the man before him.

“Laurence…”

All went silence, such a silence that it almost frightened him to his very core. It felt like a dreamy haze as he reached his fingers out, seeing how they quivered like they had never done before. Gehrman’s mind was running rampage, his heart beating at such a rapid phase he was convinced that if the figure faded once he came close enough, he would perish at this very forsaken spot.

The fabric under his fingers seemed tattered by time yet to him it appeared as the softest of silk. For a few seconds he came to stroke his fingers over it, up and down in a motion that he had almost forgotten, his heart aching with a strange warmth.

In the next instance he became engulfed into the garb, two scrawny arms trying to reach around him as best as they could and a sea of brown and silver hair falling like a waterfall over him. There was no hesitation in the old hunter as he reached out to answer the embrace, holding on as tight as he possibly could.

“You’ve grown old.”

The first clear words that left Laurence’s lips caught him slightly by surprise yet he could not help but to chuckle at this remark. Yes indeed he had, old but not frail yet a far cry from his glory days, yet he could not find it in his heart to retaliate at such at the man’s remark. For the first time in ages he would let Laurence have the last word in a banter, at least without putting up a fight.

Even though he wished the embrace to last forever, feeling how he was about ready to beg the other man to never leave his side again, Laurence slipped out of his arms, taking the tiniest of distances, his hands resting onto the old hunter’s shoulders.

“I’ve come to release you from your duties Gehrman” he murmured “it is about time, is it not?”

“Indeed it is.”

A smile came over Laurence’s lip, a smile that the old hunter would kill for. How many times had he not dreamt of that smile, of those eyes that still seemed to burn with a flame that the wildest of fires paled in comparison.

As the first vicar reached his hand out, Gehrman grasped it without hesitation, pulling himself out of the chair, leaving the blasted thing behind forever.


End file.
